


Sorcerer, Heal Thyself

by Howlingdawn



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Wings, F/M, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Loki (Marvel) Needs a Hug, Self-Hatred, Wings AU, valkyrie needs a hug too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-10
Updated: 2018-02-10
Packaged: 2019-03-16 10:12:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13634196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Howlingdawn/pseuds/Howlingdawn
Summary: Val is enjoying a night flight when she spots Loki brooding alone, so she lands to check on him. He admits what he's been forcing himself to endure, and she takes it upon herself to snap him out of it.





	Sorcerer, Heal Thyself

**Author's Note:**

> This is based on True Colors and references New Beginnings (which is still only on FF), but you don't have to read either to understand this one.

Val soared through the night sky, reveling in the wind through her hair. It wasn't that she hadn't been able to do this on Sakaar, but she had changed in the short time between then arriving on Earth. Between meeting the Odinsons, defeating Hela, and saving the universe from Thanos, it was hard not to. Maybe the euphoria would wear off, but for now, she soaked in the joy of being free of the past's shackles.

She twisted and dove through the scattered clouds above Wakanda, her erratic path lit only by stars and a full moon. After a couple hours, she dipped below the clouds, drifting back to T'Challa's palace. As much as she enjoyed her flight, she had spent a decent chunk of the last few days aiding the Avengers in freeing victims from the rubble of a massive earthquake in Japan, so she was looking forward to a night in her own bed. And her wings were eager for a break.

As she passed over a forest, she spotted something on the ground. Curious, she swooped lower, counting on her dark outfit and black feathers to mask her approach. A gap in the trees became apparent, as did a height drop – a cliffside clearing, with a river flowing from beneath the trees and cascading down in a waterfall. _I must've just noticed the moonlight glinting on the water,_ she realized, beginning to arc upwards again.

Then she stopped, because _that_ flash of light wasn't silver. It was green, and she knew only one person who would hang out in such a remote spot in the middle of the night making green sparks. So she dove down, landing lightly a few yards away from him, folding her wings up behind her.

"Good- is it morning?" she greeted.

Loki perched on the edge of the cliff, one leg dangling over it. He hugged the other one, keeping it drawn up to his chest. His own wings were unfolded, draped out behind him. "I believe it is," he answered, keeping his gaze aimed over the cliff.

"You know," she remarked, moving to his side, careful to avoid his wings, "I distinctly remember you talking about the calm night you wanted to have on our way back here."

"I said I wanted a calm night with _you,_ " he countered, "and you were a bit busy."

She couldn't quite help smiling like a lovestruck girl as she settled beside him, dropping her own legs over the edge. "So sweet of you to not ruin my fun."

He finally graced her with his gentle gaze, returning the smile. "I wouldn't dream of stopping you."

Val leaned over to kiss his cheek, relieved when he turned just in time to catch her lips. "So whatever you're out here for must not hurt too much."

"I just like the solitude. And…" Loki gave a small one-shouldered shrug, glancing behind him. "And the cold air helps."

Val looked behind them, too. Her own wings were black, splattered by what Loki called purple stars. She had them folded neatly behind her, the feathers that reached below her hips carefully pushed aside so she wouldn't sit on them. Loki's coloring painted a more complicated picture of betrayal and villainy and heroism – mostly black with orange stars, but there was a strip of blue running through them splattered by red and green. His own wings were long, longer than most at perhaps twice his armlength, but the feathers only reached his waist. If he had a choice, she rarely saw his wings folded.

They had been pristine once, years ago. This she knew from the memories he had shown her back aboard the _Ark._ They had been gorgeous and elegant and terrifying. And now, thanks to Thanos, they were broken. The bone was bent in several places, and while the bald spots were mostly hidden, it was evident up close that some of the feathers had never regrown properly after being torn out or sliced off. He could fly just fine and typically brushed off any queries about whether they hurt, but she saw his flinches when someone got too close.

Even Val hadn't yet been allowed to touch them. Not in private, not like this. There were moments in battle or cramped rooms where she had had little choice but to brush against him, even when he sucked in a breath and forced them to fold. She escaped those moments as quickly as possible, giving him room to breathe. But, even after their bonding and despite the fact they were sort of married, he had yet to give her real permission to touch his wings.

"They really do pain you, don't they?" she checked.

His wings twitched, the feathers brushing against the grass, before he let them and his shoulders slump a bit. "Yes," he finally admitted. "They never quite healed after… that year."

Val pulled one leg up to her chest, reaching out to take his hand. "Can you not do anything about it?"

"I don't-" He cut himself off, turning his head away. "No."

 _Well,_ that _was suspicious._ He had proven himself willing to endure unnecessary pain for the sake of others back on the _Ark,_ but this… For the moment, she brushed it off, deciding to move on.

"Why come out here? You could've been alone on the palace rooftop just as easily."

"And let Thor or T'Challa stumble upon me? No, thank you," he muttered. "I've had quite enough suspicion aimed at me from Earth's other heroes this week."

Val pursed her lips, recalling the glances the humans shot at Loki, the way they never quite turned their backs to him, reluctant to trust him with important tasks despite him being stronger and smarter. She edged closer to press their arms together. "They have good reason."

"I know. I know, I just- you would think that almost dying to save them from Thanos would give me some credibility."

"You and I both know it takes time to trust someone," she countered, pointing back at his wings.

Loki ducked his head. His wings shuffled, almost leaning towards her before ultimately leaning farther away. "I'm sorry-"

"No," she interrupted gently. "I won't push you. If I have to wait a few thousand years, I will. _But,_ I do want to know why you're not healing them."

"I've done all I can," Loki insisted, even as he pulled away from her, thus completely betraying his lie.

"The God of Lies should be better than this," she rebuked, catching his chin with a finger to make him look at her. He let her, but dropped his eyes, trying to hide from her. "Loki, sweetheart, I love you. I don't want to see you hurting."

"Don't you?" he hissed.

Val leaned back, startled. She saw instant contrition flash through his eyes, but he tugged his chin from her grip anyway, turning away. "Loki," she said slowly, lowering her hand, "what was that?"

He shook his head. "Nothing."

"Speak, Odinson," she ordered firmly, tone inviting no argument.

In his lap, his fingers rubbed together. "It… it's calm now."

"And?" she pressed, confused. "Isn't that good?"

"That's when everyone leaves me," he spilled, turning pained eyes back to her. "If I look like I'm not hiding something, they stop caring. They don't need me, so I get left in the shadows. That's how it's always been, and I'm waiting for it to happen again."

"We won't-" Val tried to assure him.

Loki let out a bitter laugh. "They said that, too, Sif and Fandral and the others. After a thousand years of friendship and fighting together, did they notice I'd changed after Jotunheim? If they did, they certainly didn't care. Did they try to talk me out of my insanity? No. And did any of them ever _once_ come visit me in the cells, try to talk me back around, even after they all thought I'd been dead for a year? Definitely _not._ The _only_ reason I got out of there was because Father had been driven so mad by grief that Thor had to sneak around behind his back, and did Thor ever once bother to recognize I'd lost a mother too? No. And the _first_ person he blamed for Father's death, even though it was simply old age, was _me,_ even though I made sure to leave him where he'd be cared for _._ So forgive me, Valkyrie, if I don't quite trust these little bonds that sprung up mere weeks ago through dire need."

"Do you really think _I_ haven't wanted to run screaming from all of this?" Val shot back, earning a reproachfully surprised look from Loki. "The last time I was in a big battle before meeting you and Thor, I lost _everything._ I lost my faith, my home, my best friends, all my sisters. Then suddenly I'm back with Asgard, facing Hela and then Thanos, with a husband and a new king and a new best friend and everything to lose _again._ I barely survived that once, Loki, and I risked it all again _twice_ in a handful of weeks. I was screaming for every damn second of it, waiting for my world to collapse again if you or Hulk or Thor got hit. And even though it's calm now, even though we somehow survived, Thor and Hulk and I are Avengers and you're a Guardian. Every time you three are on missions, I risk losing you. Asgard is more vulnerable than it's ever been. I'm risking it all here, too, Loki."

Loki set his jaw, stubbornly looking anywhere but her. Val swallowed a sigh, biting her lip as she dropped her gaze. Their weeks on the _Ark_ had taught her that Loki never responded well to anger. Neither of them did. So she took a moment to close her eyes and breathe, listening to a breeze whispering through leaves.

"What I'm trying to say," she finally began again, calmer now, "is that we're the same, you and I. We fell in love because we're both lost souls looking for home." She took his hands into hers, squeezing tight. "And we found it here. We don't need to hurt anymore."

Loki didn't look up, didn't move. He just murmured in utter defeat, "And what if we do?"

Val watched him for a moment, her heart shattering in her chest. His head drooped, his shoulders slumped, his eyes bordered on lifeless. She rested her forehead against his temple, pressing a kiss against the back of his hand. Then she pulled her left wing around in front of her, digging through some feathers in the middle of it to reveal a jagged scar. She picked up his hand and ran his fingers over it, finally catching his attention.

"What…?"

"I was a gladiator before I was a scrapper," Val admitted. "I got a chair just like your brother. Unlike him, though, I didn't fight it, because I wanted to fight. If I won, I was working out my rage and grief. If I lost, well… I thought I deserved the pain for letting my sisters die. So I took the punishment. I lost on purpose most of the time. But I suppose the Grandmaster saw my potential, because he pitted me against his champion at the time, and he let me win because the crowds were bored of the old one. He offered me a choice: continue fighting, or be a scrapper."

"Scrapper?" Loki guessed, holding his fingers against the scar.

"No," she said. "I kept fighting, but not as his champion. Champions aren't allowed to lose, and that's what I wanted. Again and again and again. For a long time."

He lowered his hand, squeezing hers now. "How did you become a scrapper, then?"

Val shrugged. "He got tired of seeing me lose. Said it was either scrapper or janitor. At least being a scrapper meant I could still punch my pain out. And I got paid enough for a lot of drinks."

Loki stared at the scar in silence, thoughts swimming through his eyes.

She brushed her feathers back into place, tucking her wing behind her again. "Anyway, my point is that I know what it's like to want to punish yourself. But it gets you _nowhere,_ Loki. Causing yourself pain only makes your life worse. I finally figured that out when Thor talked some sense into me, but _you_ don't need to go through a thousand years of pain. I don't want to watch you do that to yourself."

"It's not that-"

"Simple? No," Val agreed. "It's by far the hardest thing ever and part of me would rather fight Thanos a hundred more times than face my survivor's guilt head-on. But you know what makes it easier?"

"What?"

She poked his cheek. "You. Your brother. Hulk. I have a family to live for now, and if I keep getting wasted and beaten up, I'll lose you. And because I have you, I have support. I don't feel so guilty anymore for surviving. That battle changed my life forever, but you help me put the past behind me."

Loki batted her hand away. "So I shouldn't feel guilty about all the pain and death I caused."

"Ok, so you have true reasons to feel guilty," Val allowed. "But you also have plenty of reasons to move past it." At his unconvinced expression, she switched tactics. "Look, I don't care if you don't pick this moment to throw out your villainous past – we can do that later, together. All I want you to do now is heal your wings. If not for yourself, do it for me."

Loki contemplated her for a long time, mulling over her words. She waited in patient silence, just holding his hands. At long last, he turned to his wings, sending a wave of emerald light rippling over them. The deformities remained – that much _was_ irreparable – but his eyes drifted shut and a relieved sigh escaped his lips.

Val pulled him into a hug, feeling the tension ooze from him as he relaxed into her grip. "Thank you," she breathed.

In response, he wrapped his wings around her.

She froze, waiting for him to flinch away.

He only tightened his grip, both with arms and wings. "Go ahead," he encouraged. "I trust you."

A glowing smile growing on her face, she slid her hands carefully into his soft feathers. His wings twitched at first, muscles tensing at the unfamiliar touch, and she stilled, pressing no further. Only when he relaxed did she fully embed her hands, reveling in both his warmth and trust in her. They shared a kiss, long and tender, lips quirking into gentle smiles when they melted apart just enough to breathe.

Staying there, wrapped around each other, dappled in starlight, lulled by the river's steady roaring… It was tempting. Part of Val wanted to just lay down, just hold on to this precious moment. A thousand years ago, maybe she would've.

But she had interrupted something to be here.

"Race you to the palace," she whispered in his ear.

Before he could fully process the challenge, she was on her feet, flapping once to hop over his wings. His indignant shout of "Hey!" followed her running steps, and by the time he was on his feet, she was leaping into the air. He jumped after her, delicate-looking wings powering him forward until he was below and passing her. Val smirked and picked up her pace, diving down to cut him off. She just heard a laugh as the clone flickered out of view and he reappeared several yards ahead, mischief sparking in his gaze as he glanced back to watch her face.

"Oh, no you don't!" she yelled, angling up to catch a current. He lifted up to join her, rolling onto his back to kiss her again.

"See you at the palace," he whispered.

"No, I'll see _you_ there," she retorted, planting her hands on his chest and pushing him down. He fumbled just enough for her to sweep into the lead.

They dodged and dove around each other hours more, Wakanda flashing by below them as the sun crept over the horizon, illuminating the laughing duo with its golden light.


End file.
